


Protection

by kelex



Category: Smallville
Genre: Crossover, First Time, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-08
Updated: 2004-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-01 10:55:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/355860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelex/pseuds/kelex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark protects his lover.  Written for the Lexslash "Dark Knight In Smallville" challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protection

## Protection

by Kel

<http://kelex.popullus.net/smallville.html>

* * *

_December 29, 2002_  
 _Smallville_

The furor that was a small-town Christmas had all but driven Lex into hermitage. Better used to high-end cocktail parties with too many drinks and too many bodies pressed together, the constant motion of a Smallville Christmas was something completely foreign to Lex. And if it hadn't been for Clark Kent, Lex would have _made_ it into hermit status. 

"Brooding again, Lex? This is supposed to be a time for happy thoughts." Sarcasm dripped off the last two words. 

"You're one to talk." Lex inclined his head to the sideboard full of liquor bottles. "Help yourself. There's enough for two broods." 

"At least when I brood, I make no pretenses." Bruce Wayne settled into the armchair across from Lex's, brandy snifter in hand. "I didn't know you and Lionel drank the same cognac." 

Lex snorted. "Are you joking? Cut me and I bleed Auvignon. I've drunk it since I was thirteen." 

"Yes, I knew you did. I merely didn't know Lionel did." A silent pause. "So tell me, Lex. Why did I have to find out about your accident from the newspaper? I don't merit a call anymore?" When Bruce didn't receive an answer, he took another drink. "So who's Clark?" 

Lex's eyes shot up to Bruce's. "How do you know about Clark?" 

"You talk in your sleep. Even more specifically, you yelled out his name, several times." Bruce settled back in his chair, waiting on the answer from his friend. 

"Clark's the boy who pulled me out of the river. Gave me CPR." Lex would have trusted Bruce with anything... except Clark. 

Bruce nodded as he studied his friend. "Nightmares I can understand." 

"I don't have nightmares." 

"Really? Must I remind you that you were the one crying out his name in your sleep... I'm assuming it was for rescue." 

Lex swore silently to himself. "He's not like the others, Bruce... stay away," he warned softly. 

Bruce's interest shot up at the same time his brow did. "Maybe I should see this... for myself." 

"Don't," was all Lex cautioned. 

* * *

_December 30th, 2002_  
 _Smallville_

Christmas carols were still stuck in Clark's head, and he was whistling "Jingle Bells" to himself as he slid Lex's package under his arm. His best friend had been conspicuously absent from the Smallville holiday celebrations, and he hadn't had a chance to give Lex his present. So after having escaped his parents' watchful eyes--and Jonathan's disdain--Clark had retrieved the gaily wrapped package from its hiding place in the barn and was on his way. 

The sweater in the package was a comforting weight as he listened to it slide around. He knew Lex never wore nubbly sweaters like other people, would probably hate this one in fact, but he couldn't pass it up when he'd seen it at Fordman's department store. It was a deep, plummy color that matched the purple that seemed to permeate Lex's entire wardrobe. Realistically, Clark knew this sweater would end up hung at the back of Lex's closet, but... at least it would _be_ in Lex's closet. 

There was another, smaller package in with the sweater, and that was what was giving Clark the nervous fits that were currently twisting his stomach in knots. He'd known Lex for less than six months, but ever since they'd saved each other--and that was the way Clark thought of it--he'd felt a surprising connection to Lex, and it kept him always coming to his friend, staying in Lex's circle. The small box was barely as large as Clark's palm, but it was what was in it that counted. A slender silver chain, and on it, a St. Christopher's medallion. He wasn't sure what Lex's religion was, but he _did_ know that his friend needed the medallion more than he did. 

He slowed to a stop outside of the driveway and checked the package. It'd been tucked close to his body and the paper was still intact, unwrinkled, and he steeled himself as he bent the bars of the gate, squeezed through, and bent them back. He made a beeline for the front door and knocked, waiting to be admitted. He heard a noise behind the door, and smiled, expecting to see Lex. He took a step back when a tall, dark stranger opened the door. "Um..." 

"Can I help you?" Bruce's voice was brusque, but not impolite. 

Clark held the package out in front of him like a shield. "Um... yeah. I'm a friend of Lex's... I brought his Christmas present over." 

_Friend of Lex's?_ Bruce questioned. _This must be the elusive Clark..._ "You must be Clark," was the only thought he vocalized aloud. 

Clark blinked. "Uh, yeah. Clark Kent." He held out the hand not holding Lex's present. 

"Bruce Wayne." Bruce shook Clark's hand firmly and then dropped it. He was not a man for personal contact. "Please, come in. Lex is on his weekly conference call with his father; you can wait with me in the conservatory." He turned and walked into the house, not waiting to see if Clark followed. 

Clark stared after Bruce for a few moments, and then sprinted into the house behind him. Bruce... Wayne. Wayne Enterprises' Bruce Wayne. And then he swallowed a chuckle. He was best friends with Lex Luthor... LuthorCorp's Lex Luthor. _I guess it's all in the way you think of things._ Clark had never thought of Lex as LuthorCorp's Lex Luthor, he'd just always... thought of him as Lex. Even though it was always in Lex's face--and Clark's, since he was always with Lex--Lex somehow seemed to shed the LuthorCorp mantle at the door and manage to be himself. "I didn't know Lex had company." 

Bruce chuckled softly. "I've been staying with Lex since before Christmas, young man." _Young is right... he's barely sixteen if he's a day! Fresh off the farm... no wonder Lex warned me away._ "We've been friends for quite a long time." 

"Wow. That's... I didn't know Lex had other friends. I mean, he never said--" 

"Lex is a very private person, Clark. I'm surprised you haven't figured that out yet." 

The man's words stung, and Clark straightened from his slouch. "I know a lot about Lex, Mr. Wayne. I know he's private. I also know that he's talked a lot about friendship, and how important it is, and how he hasn't had a lot of it in his life. He never mentioned your name." 

Bruce almost laughed. _You've got a weakness for Lex, my young friend._ He could tell that the words were meant to hurt his feelings, but they didn't. His and Lex's friendship was different from any other in his life, and he didn't broadcast it, either. He didn't expect that Lex would. After all... LuthorCorp and Wayne Enterprises were fairly stiff competitors; it wasn't good politics to be best friends with your future enemy. "I'm not surprised, Clark. Lex and I both tend to keep our private lives private." 

Clark's shoulders sagged slightly and he didn't even realize it. Private lives; they were _that_ kind of friends, and that would also explain why Lex hadn't mentioned him. Suddenly he felt stupid, standing in the hallway with Lex's lover and holding a wrapped purple sweater in his hands. "Um... is Lex in his office? I'm just gonna... I'm gonna leave this here for him, cause I gotta get back home. I, uh, I promised my mom I'd help take down the Christmas decorations." Not for the first time, he realized how much of a child he must seem next to someone like Lex. "I just... wanna leave him a note." 

"His office is right down the hall," Bruce added helpfully. 

"I know that; that's where we play pool," Clark all but snapped. "Is that where he's taking his phone call at?" 

"No," was all Bruce volunteered. 

"Thanks." Clark hurried down the hall and disappeared into the office. He left the present on the middle of the desk, and picked up a pad of stationary. _From the desk of Lex Luthor_ , it said, and Clark scribbled out _Lex Luthor_ and wrote _Clark Kent_ below it. 

*"Hey, Lex. I'm sorry that I missed you, but your friend Bruce told me you were on a phone call with your Dad. I'm sorry about that too, I know how mean he is to you. I got you something for Christmas; I know you'll probably hate it, but I couldn't resist it. It seemed so... you. Finally, I'm sorry I couldn't be here with you when you open this; I really wanted to be, but I had to get back home and help Mom take down the Christmas decorations. Merry Christmas. Always, Clark."* 

Clark folded the hand-written note and slipped it under the ribbon on the package, smoothing it down with his fingertips before centering the package on Lex's desk, where his friend would be unable to miss it. 

* * *

When Lex got out of the call with his father and Dominic, his nerves felt as though they were tied in knots--as they always did after dealing with both of them on the same day. He really wanted nothing more than to go to the Beanery, or wherever it might have been that Clark was hanging out at that particular moment, and let the young man's presence and babble soothe him. 

He snickered at the image of Bruce Wayne in a teenage coffeehouse, sipping bad latte. "Bruce?" 

"In your office, Lex." 

Lex changed course and started towards the opposite end of the hallway, stopping to lean against the doorjamb of his office "Please, Bruce. Make yourself at home." 

Bruce was sitting behind Lex's desk, feet propped up on the surface, and the largest of the three katana in his hand. "Thanks, I think I will." Bruce's foot nudged the package forward. "You have a present." 

"Not from you, I hope." 

"Don't be asinine, Lex." Bruce snorted. "Some young kid dropped it off for you. Green eyes, shock of black hair, lots of baggy flannel. Said his name was--" 

"Clark Kent," Lex finished possessively. He picked up the package from the desk, running his fingers over the paper. "Did you ask him to stay?" 

"He said he had to go home and help his mother take down Christmas decorations," Bruce replied. "But he wanted to leave this for you." 

Lex's fingers encountered the note, and he pulled it out of the ribbon. Sitting down on the couch, he left the package in his lap as he read it. He was amused that it was on his own stationery, even more amused that Clark had altered the letterhead to fit him. That was a typical Clark Kent thing to do, and he smiled. 

Bruce watched Lex reading the letter, and shook his head at the smile. He noted Lex's free hand was still idly stroking the wrapping paper of the package, and Bruce would have been willing to bet his entire fortune that Lex didn't know he was doing it. "Seemed like a nice kid, even if he is a little young to be legal." 

Lex didn't pull his eyes away from where he was now re-reading the letter from Clark. "He'll be sixteen in a few weeks." 

"A fifteen-year-old boy saved your life? _That_ boy was fifteen?" Bruce put his feet down at that. "Lex?" 

"Yes to both." He folded the letter carefully and slipped it back under the ribbon. "I told you, Bruce... stay away from Clark Kent." He pulled himself to his feet, package tucked under his arm. "I mean it." 

"I can tell you do." Bruce looked Lex up and down, once. 

* * *

The Christmas tree was always the last thing to be taken down at the Kent house, and Clark hated it. He loved putting the tree up; loved the smell of pine that permeated the entire house, the beautiful flicker of lights and the soft chime of bells and ornaments that covered the green branches. 

But taking it down and packing the things away was a depressing chore, and one that Clark was all too happy to skip. Martha had shooed his overly-strong hands away from her blown-glass ornaments as she carefully wrapped them in tissue paper and bubble wrap to be packed away until next year. He'd bought strands of white lights at after-Christmas sales and they draped across his level of the barn. They twinkled like a miniature matte of stars, and it was the last vestige of Christmas that he held on to. 

A sharp rap on the handrails caught his attention. "There's nowhere to knock but I didn't want to just barge in," Lex said quietly. "Can I come in?" 

"Lex! Sure!" Clark leapt up from the sofa and met his friend. His face fell when his eyes saw the unopened package under Lex's arm. "You don't have to return it, Lex." 

"Return?" He was mystified. "Oh. I'm not returning it, I'm opening it." He pulled the note out and held it up. "You said you wanted to be there when I opened it, so... here I am." 

Clark couldn't help but grin. "Dork. You didn't have to come all the way over here." 

"I know, Clark. But I wanted to." An answering grin. "You going to ask me to sit down?" 

"You don't have to wait for the invitation, Lex. You're always welcome up here." Clark's grin widened, and he held out his arm, indicating the rest of the platform. "My barn is your barn." 

"How... provincial." But his own grin stayed firmly in place as he settled onto the couch beside Clark. "Where did you manage to find purple wrapping paper?" 

"My mom had it in the cellar, with all the other wrapping paper; I just kinda snitched it one day while she was wrapping Dad's presents." Clark blushed and reached under the sofa, brandishing the half-empty roll. "I hid it so she wouldn't miss it." 

"I didn't get you anything, Clark. I knew your parents wouldn't approve, and I didn't want your father making you return something _else_ I'd given you." Lex dropped his eyes from the roll of wrapping paper to the package in his lap. 

"It's okay, Lex. You... you being my friend is enough." 

Lex met the earnest green gaze with his own for a long moment, and then looked down. "The curiosity is about to kill me here." 

A quiet giggle. "So go on, open it." 

"All right." Lex slowly peeled the tape from the seams of the package, meticulously folding the paper back as Clark fidgeted behind him. "Slowly, Clark, slowly... it's too nice a job to rush." 

"Yeah, yeah, just hurry up already!" 

Lex paused in mid-peel to look at his fidgety friend. "Clark?" 

"I can't stand it anymore. Just rip the paper open!!" Clark was starting to bounce on the sofa. 

"I didn't realize you were so impatient." A serious tone of voice, and then a smirk at his friend as he finished unwrapping the package. He folded the paper carefully and set it to the side, and then ran his finger along the edge, loosening the tape that held the box shut. Finally, he pulled the lid off and stared at the contents of the package. "Clark... I don't... know what to say." Lex's throat closed surprisingly tight. The last time he'd been given a sweater, his mother had given it to him... the last Christmas they'd spent together as a family. "It's..." 

"Dorky, I know. But the color... it just kinda screamed Lex." Clark was blushing. "I know it'll probably hang in the back of your closet and never be seen again, but... Merry Christmas, Lex." 

"Clark... no. You don't... you don't understand." It was hard for him to talk around the lump in his throat. "The last time anyone got me a sweater... it was my mother. The last Christmas present she gave me was a gray and gold cashmere sweater, because my hair was gone, and she knew... she knew how cold I got. I wore it to tatters." He picked the sweater up out of the box and rubbed the soft texture against his cheek. "This is the... nicest present I've gotten in almost ten years, Clark. Thank you. So much." As he shook out the sweater, the other small box clattered to the floor, and Lex bent to pick it up. "What's this?" 

"It's... the rest of your present," Clark hedged. "Go on, open it." 

There was no wrapping paper on this small box, only a piece of red velvet ribbon holding it shut. Carefully balancing the box in his hand, Lex untied the ribbon and took the lid off. He held up the silver chain thoughtfully, studying it and the medallion at the end of it. "I've seen this before," he said quietly, musingly. Then suddenly, his head snapped up to the open V of skin showing through Clark's shirt. The skin there was bare, and Lex shook his head. "This is yours, Clark. I can't accept it." 

Clark closed Lex's hand around the chain. "Yes, you can. You need it. More than I do." He opened Lex's fingers enough to flip over the medallion. On the back, it had a faceless Madonna, and around her halo was engraved the words Our Lady of the Highways Protect Us. "See? You need this." He took the necklace out of Lex's hand, and draped it around his neck. "The chain's long enough that nobody will ever know you're wearing it, and it'll protect you." Clark's eyes dropped. "When I'm not around, that is." 

"I don't know what to say." 

"Thank you, is always nice." Clark was still blushing, and his fingertips brushed the back of Lex's neck as he fastened the clasp at the back of the chain and let it slide into the collar of Lex's shirt. 

"Thank you, Clark." Lex let his hand rest on Clark's arm. "You don't know what it means to me." 

* * *

_December 31, 2002_  
 _Smallville_

"Don't tell me you're brooding _again._ " Bruce dropped into the chair across from Lex. "Your little get-together starts in... three hours," he continued, consulting his watch. "It'd be bad form to show up drunk." 

"Shut up, Bruce. I seriously doubt that one glass of single-malt scotch is going to noticeably inebriate me." 

"All right, Lex. Spit it out. When you start talking even _more_ like a dictionary than usual, I know something's bothering you." The dark man glared at his friend. 

"What did you tell Clark Kent about us?" 

"That we were friends," Bruce answered truthfully. "And that we keep our friendship private." Also the truth, but he didn't mention that he'd manipulated the conversation. "Why do you ask?" 

"Because I get the distinct impression that Clark thinks we're something more." His eyes narrowed at his long-time friend. "Where, do you think, he would get that idea?" 

"Honestly, Lex? I don't know." Bruce leaned back and returned the steady gaze. It wasn't that he didn't want Clark and Lex together, but he refused to let his friend be hurt by a young kid just out for play. Lex had already been through too much already. And if pretending to be Lex's lover kept him safe, then that's what Bruce would imply. 

"Odd that you'd say that." 

Bruce's gaze grew a touch darker. "Are you implying something, Lex?" 

"I don't know, Bruce... should I be?" 

A beat of silence where neither man spoke, and the only noise in the background was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. 

* * *

Lex stood in front of his mirror, looking at himself. The party he'd decided to throw at the last minute was casual, and the purple sweater that Clark had bought for him was the perfect outfit for the occasion. He cuffed the sleeves crisply and folded the collar down to a comfortable level. After a brief moment of thought, Lex slid the chain out from under the shirt and looped it under the collar. The small silver St. Christopher's medallion gleamed brightly in the soft light of Lex's dressing room, and the deep purple color flattered his complexion. Smiling, he smoothed the front of the sweater down and slipped out the bedroom door, downstairs to greet the people arriving for his party. 

* * *

Clark was the first guest to arrive, and it didn't surprise Lex one bit. "Hello, Clark. Glad your parents let you come." 

"Just kinda told them I wasn't missing it, and Mom said I could." He looked at Lex. "You're wearing your new sweater." 

"Of course," he said, with a small smirk. "That's the point of the celebration. To show off what I got." The smirk widened. 

"You're spoiled, Lex." But he grinned back, insanely pleased that Lex was proud enough of the sweater to wear it to a public event. "But in a good way." 

"I didn't know being spoiled could _have_ a good way." He stayed as close to Clark as he possibly could without being obviously invasive of his space. "So tell me, what do you think of my friend Bruce? I saw in your note yesterday that the two of you met." 

"He's..." Clark hesitated, obviously searching for a non-offensive term. 

"Strange?" Lex supplied, playing down the smile that turned the corners of his lips. 

"Yeah. You could say that. I didn't, but you could. Cause you're his friend." A quick grin. "Seriously? He's... intense. And... territorial. I definitely got the _don't mess with my man_ vibes." Clark's shoulder brushed against Lex's. 

Lex's eyebrows rose. "Oh, you did?" 

Clark nodded shyly. "Loud and clear." 

"I can see I'm going to have to have a talk with Bruce." He looked up at his taller friend. "Clark... I don't know what impression he gave you, but we're just friends." 

"It's okay, Lex. I'm--totally cool with the whole... you know... guy thing," Clark hastened to reassure. "I'm... yeah, well, I'm down with it." 

That drove Lex's curiosity almost through the roof. "I mean it, Clark. There's nothing between Bruce and I." 

"Maybe, uh, maybe you better tell him that." Clark nudged Lex so that his vision shifted just enough to catch the dirty glares that Bruce was sending towards them. 

"No... I think maybe _we_ better." Lex clamped a hand around Clark's wrist and all but dragged Clark over to Bruce's corner. Their conversation would be lost in the mingling voices of the other guests, but Lex kept his voice pitched low. "Bruce... I think we need to have a talk." 

"Really? What about?" He lounged against the wall, ankles crossed. 

"I want you to stop playing your little mind games with Clark. I told you, he's my friend. You want to play with someone, you find someone else. He's mine." Emphasis on mine which neither man missed. 

Bruce shrugged insolently. "You want to get put away for a pretty face, that's your business. As your friend, it's my business to watch out for you when you start thinking with your dick." 

Clark flushed and made a small noise of distress deep in his throat. Lex's grip tightened soothingly. "Dammit, Bruce... I thought we were friends," Lex growled. "But you're not going to treat Clark like that, not in my home. Not while I have anything to say about it." 

"Maybe... you don't. I'm not your father, not one of your father's servants, and not one of your lackeys either. You don't have anything to say over my behavior," Bruce pointed out. "And if I think that you fucking this kid is going to bring down a load of trouble on your head, then I don't have a problem with bringing it up in your face." 

Clark's eyes bounced back and forth from man to man, and then at Bruce's words, twisted his arm away from Lex's hand and disappeared into the milling crowd. 

Lex glared angrily at Bruce. "Are you happy now? What do you care? You and I were lovers long before either one of us were legal, what does it matter to you now?" 

"I don't have that many friends in my life, Lex. I'd like to protect the ones I do have." He drained his glass, and in front of Lex's eyes, disappeared into the shadows and into one of the deep hallways of the mansion. 

_Motherless fucker,_ Lex swore silently, pasting a smile on his face as he moved through the small throng of people, shaking hands, trading greetings, and scanning for any sign of Clark or his wake. But nothing. 

Finally Lex made it through the group of people, and ended up in the foyer. He heard a muffled noise in the cloak room to his left and he opened the door enough to stick his head into. "Clark?" 

"Go away, Lex." 

Lex swallowed down the small ball of hurt those words caused. "Clark... please." 

"Go away. Go back to Bruce." Clark's voice was still muffled, but Lex let himself completely into the coat room, and shut the door behind him. "I said go away." 

"I know you did. But I'm not." Lex wove towards the back of the room, which is where Clark's voice seemed to be coming from. "This is disturbingly familiar; I used to spend my Christmases in a room very like this one until my mother would come and find me and bring me out." He discovered his large friend huddled into a very small corner. "Clark?" 

"Go back to your friend." 

Lex lowered himself to sit on the floor beside Clark, and was suddenly glad of the warm sweater as the cool air of the unheated coatroom nipped at his bald head. "Bruce left after you did. I told him he didn't have a right to talk to you that way." 

"Thanks." But he didn't look up. 

"Clark...?" 

"I know, Lex. I know I'm just... just a kid. Just a lucky kid, who fished you out of the river, and is even luckier because we're friends. But... just cause I'm a kid, that doesn't mean that I don't know things." 

Lex put his hand on the back of Clark's neck, and was surprised when he wasn't shaken off. "What kind of things, Clark?" 

"I'm not stupid. I know that I like you. I mean, _like_ you. In ways that I probably shouldn't. I think Bruce knows it too, and that's why... why he said that stuff. So you wouldn't. Cause... you know, you're Lex Luthor. And I'm just..." 

"Just my best friend," Lex interrupted softly, squeezing the strong neck under his hands. "Just someone I trust with my life, someone I owe my life _to_." 

"Just... Clark." 

Lex squeezed again. "You're not _just_ anything, Clark. You're not just a pretty face to me. You're not just someone I want to sleep with. You're someone I like. Someone I respect, and have come to care a great deal for." 

That got Clark's attention and he lifted his head to rest his chin on his knees and look at Lex. "You mean that?" 

"Of course I do, Clark. You mean a great deal to me--" 

"That's not what I was talking about." Clark dropped his eyes to the floor again. "I meant... about not just someone you wanted to sleep with." 

Lex blinked. "I'm... not sure what you're asking me, Clark." 

"Am I not _just_ someone you want to sleep with--meaning you want more out of me than just the sex, or am I _not_ just someone you want to sleep with--meaning you don't want to have sex with me?" 

Lex's hand moved from Clark's neck to gently grip his chin. Using his new handhold, he turned Clark to look at him. "Not _just_ someone I want to sleep with. Someone I want to sleep with, be friends with, play pool with and read with," Lex explained softly. "I do want to sleep with you. But I want those other things too." 

"Good." Clark gave a relieved, trembling smile. He lowered his knees, showing why he'd run away before. There was a fairly impressive erection currently pressing against the seam of his jeans. "When Bruce... when he said that about... about you fucking me... this happened. So I ran, cause I didn't know, you know? But... it's okay, right?" 

Lex nodded. "It's very okay, Clark." He rubbed a thumb over Clark's lips. "It's okay as long as you want it." 

Clark nodded. "I told you before, Lex. I knew I liked you in ways I probably shouldn't. But... this is one of those ways." 

"Come here, Clark." Lex tugged until Clark was settled between his legs. "Trust me. And if I do something you don't like, then let me know, all right?" 

"Okay." Clark's teeth caught his lower lip as he moved into position against Lex, and then gasped softly as Lex's fingers unhooked the button of Clark's jeans and pushed the zipper down. "Lex." 

"You want me to stop?" he asked quietly, running his fingertips lightly up and down the covered shaft. 

"No... it just... feels good." Clark squirmed a little, working his jeans down around his thighs as his cock caused his loose boxers to tent. 

"It's supposed to feel good," Lex whispered softly, pressing kisses to Clark's ear. "If it ever stops feeling good, tell me." He moved his kisses down, and for the first time, possessed Clark's mouth. His tongue thrust gently, carefully... enticingly, until he felt Clark's first tentative thrusts back. Using the soothing touches, Lex taught Clark how to open under him, how to taste and tease with his tongue, and how to kiss back. 

He urged Clark to turn over, so that he straddled Lex, and Clark cupped Lex's face carefully in his large hands. "Never had a real kiss before," Clark breathed softly. "Thank you." He leaned over and pressed his lips to Lex's, surprised when a soft tongue met him as a gentle hand wrapped around his cock. "Lex?" 

"It's okay, Clark." Lex's voice was a throaty mumble against Clark's mouth as they shared sweet, half-inexperienced kisses and Lex stroked his lover's cock. "You taste good... not like I remember." Clark found himself thrusting awkwardly until Lex's free hand slid down and slowly guided his motions into a smoother rocking. "Taste like... sunshine." 

"You were like... cold river water and something darker... wondered what you tasted like for real." Clark's hands were clenched into fists against his thighs, and his nails dug into his own flesh and he shuddered, coming almost before he realized it. 

Lex felt the tremors in his lover's body and rolled onto his side, watching the large cock in his hand jerk as Clark came, spilling hot white liquid onto the cold floor of the coatroom. A single drop remained on the head, not large enough to fall, and Lex's finger stroked over the head, collecting the drop and bringing it to his mouth. Locking eyes with Clark, he sucked his finger and licked it clean. 

Clark's eyes widened, and he looked at Lex in shock. "I'll tell you when you're older," Lex teased, and Clark shot to his feet. "Clark! It was a joke," he pacified. 

"I won't tell anyone," he swore, panicked. "I'm good at keeping secrets, I won't tell. Nobody'll know, I won't let you go to jail for doing something wrong." 

"Clark!" Lex rarely raised his voice, and so when he did, it cut immediately through Clark's babble and got his attention. "This wasn't wrong. It might have been against some arcane law that was set in place to keep two people of the same sex from being together, but it wasn't _wrong,_ " he emphasized. "It's nothing I'm ashamed of; I want you, Clark, in all the ways you can think of and in quite a few you probably can't." He left his hand on Clark's arm as he pulled himself to his feet as well. "In three and a half weeks, you'll be sixteen, and then nothing can get in the way of us, understand?" 

Clark nodded. "I understand." He found that he liked the possessive note in Lex's voice. "Sorry I freaked out there." Then his eyes widened again. "Oh, man. Your friend. He's gonna kill me." 

"No, he's not," Lex said firmly. "I'll see to it." 

* * *

_December 31, 2016_  
 _Metropolis_

"It's New Year's Eve. Don't you think you could lay off the black rubber?" 

"Not when I'm working. Red and blue aren't exactly traditional Christmas colors, either." 

Superman sighed, perching on the roof of _The Daily Planet_ beside his costumed friend. "Where's Robin?" 

Batman waved a hand down to the large crowd milling around LexCorp's tower. "Down there. Watching Lex." 

Superman nodded. "Thank you. When we got wind of the threat... Lex wouldn't cancel the celebrations. Clark has to make an appearance shortly, and I can't keep watch up here and on the ground too." 

"That's why you called us." Batman's eyes didn't leave the milling crowd. 

Superman shook his head gently. Even though he was the one with the super-vision, he knew that Batman was focused on Robin. "I've got to go, but I'll be back as soon as I can." 

"Take your time, make sure he's protected." 

Superman nodded. "With my life, Bruce." 

Without another word, Superman vanished off the roof of the Planet. 

Clark Kent appeared moments later beside his lover. 

"Glad to see you could make it, Clark," Lex grinned softly. 

"Deadlines suck," he said, keeping up his persona of Clark Kent, reporter for the Daily Planet. "But, I got it in _just_ under the deadline." 

Lex snickered at that. "I know something else you'll be _just_ under tonight." 

Clark blushed, just like he did every time Lex flirted with him. "Oh really? I can't wait." His arms snaked around Lex's waist, and he pulled his lover close. "You, my love, have bats in your belfry." 

Lex nodded at the code phrase. "You had a super night so far, I take it?" 

Clark snuggled him closer. "Yeah. But nothing came up yet, so I decided there's nowhere else I'd rather be than right here, with you, when the ball drops." He kissed his love softly, wetly, and then broke away at some friendly catcalls from the surrounding people. "Sorry, sorry, I keep forgetting we're being watched." 

"Yeah, yeah, eyes are everywhere, comin' through." Dick Grayson barged through the mass of people to climb up on the small platform where Clark and Lex stood. "Get a room, guys, please. Don't need to see this." 

Lex just laughed, and Clark studied the younger man. Almost thirty, Dick had been with Bruce nearly as long as Clark had been with Lex. They'd all been friends for the last decade and a half, but it had taken Clark nearly four years to forgive Bruce for trying to keep him and Lex apart. But Bruce had proven invaluable in helping Clark discover how to control his powers and use misdirection to conceal his identity, and they'd become quite close, despite the fact that Batman was Gotham's guardian and Superman worked in Metropolis. "Hello, Dick." 

"Hey, Clark. Sight for sore eyes, been too long, man." Dick clapped Clark on the shoulder, squeezing hard in warning. "Ready to party at two o'clock?" 

Clark's reflexes kicked into action at Dick's warning. His head snapped around to two o'clock, and gently shoved Lex towards Dick, sending them both sprawling as his eyes shot out two clear beams of concentrated energy. 

A loud shout, the smell of scorched flesh, and the crowed screamed as a burning body hit the snowy streets below with a quiet thud. 

Batman landed in a crouch beside the body, seconds later. His cape flared out to cover the body until the crowd had been pushed back. 

Dick had disappeared from Lex's side, and seconds later, Robin emerged from an alley behind Batman, and Clark pulled Lex to his feet. "Who is it?" Clark asked grimly. 

Batman's cape flared back just enough to reveal a feminine face. "Pamela Isles. Poison Ivy." 

Lex's breath caught in his throat. "P--Pamela? But--" 

"Don't worry about it, Lex," Clark said quietly. "You did everything you could to help her when she was sick; it's not your fault that she chose the radical chemotherapy that did this to her." He looked down at Lex's shirt and was shocked. A dart--a dart he hadn't even noticed whizzing by--was lodged in his lover's skin. "C'mon, Lex. I'm taking you to the lab--we'll find out what she injected you with." 

Lex followed his lover's gaze down, and then laughed. Soft at first, it turned into near-hysterics. He pulled his shirt down and revealed the thin metal of the St. Christopher medallion Clark had given him so many Christmases ago. 

The dart tip was embedded in the center of the medallion. 

* * *

_St. Christopher protect you, and Merry Christmas._

The End 


End file.
